Every year it is the same old history. We buy him new baju melayu for Eidul Fitri, and he loses it before Eidul Adha. Every time it is the same commotion. You would think we both have learnt our lessons. I thought I had. Yesterday I asked him to go look for the shirt in preparation for this morning's prayer.
"I have found the pants, the shirt is somewhere. I will look for it," he had said.
I always try to give him the benefit of the doubt; to trust that at 13, he is big enough to take care of his own things. Unfortunately, history still repeats itself.
And, once again, I find myself shouting at him for misplacing it. We searched high and low for it in this house, in everybody's wardrobe...nay... I have the nastiest suspicion he wore it to school, then took it off for his undershirt (T shirt most likely) and then just forgets about it. That is what that has riled me so. Plus on top of that, the dad just goes off for the eidul adha prayer, leaving him behind.
And I blew my top...and now I feel lousy... not a pleasant feeling at all.
On Eidul Adha...the day of sacrifice...I sacrificed my patience...BUMMER!
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